


Beautiful, quivering, chivalrous shambles

by rawthorne (noisette)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Spoilers, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:10:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noisette/pseuds/rawthorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've fought together and they've bled together, but when Isaac pins Boyd against the crumbling plaster wall with a tight, bruising kiss he doesn't expect stiff shoulders and a head twisted violently away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful, quivering, chivalrous shambles

They've fought together and they've bled together, but when Isaac pins Boyd against the crumbling plaster wall with a tight, bruising kiss he doesn't expect stiff shoulders and a head twisted violently away. He's fantasized about it; hard not to do that when you can sense every twitch of temper, every long exhale of boredom from about mile away. When he shifts, Boyd is playful, even affectionate. He's less the silent warrior shadowing their alpha's steps and more of an equal member of the pack. He'll toss Erica over his shoulder or tackle her to the ground to nip at her neck. He'll chase Isaac without really trying to catch him. In school, he'll kick back his seat and watch them in the lunch room, his pack, his friends, and Isaac will imagine he's happy. 

That's not a lie he can tell himself now, when Boyd stands rigid and sullen as Isaac places a hesitant hand against his chest, approximating where his pecs should be and rubbing his fingers into a blood-spattered shirt. He got hurt tonight. They both did; the wolfsbane bullet even left a slowly-healing scar on Boyd's ribcage. The mark will go away after the full moon, but the pain of it still lingers in memory, however tough they have become. It turns out they're still pretty fallible, on the whole. 

Stiles drove Erica home after they dropped Scott at the vet's. Derek will be with him all night. Isaac doesn't want to feel jealous. He wants to be alone tonight even less. 

"Is it because I'm a guy?" _Or is it just because I'm... me?_ Slowly, half expecting the other boy to send him sprawling onto his ass among the rusty debris on the floor of the warehouse, he draws back. He has Boyd's taste on his lips and he swallows, trying to steel his nerves against the oncoming rebuff. (It's like coming on to Danny at the club and being told _I like you, I do, but I'm seeing someone._ )

Boyd gives him one of those long, patented Derek Hale stares that don't serve any other purpose except to make Isaac's stomach lurch, heavy with guilt. 

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." Isaac puts up his hands. His erection rubs uncomfortable against his jeans; he's had worse after lacrosse practice with only a towel to cover up. "I don't know what got into me. Probably this thing with the kanima and Erica and the dancing and I... It won't happen again, I swear." Ages ago, when Boyd was dealing and Isaac's dad was still his magnetic north, he thought the other boy had to be a gangbanger for the way everyone avoided him. It never occurred to him that gangbangers in Beacon Hills are about as likely as Bigfoot. All the same, that doesn't make Boyd and his heavy silence any less scary. 

The fact that they're alone in the warehouse was supposed to be an aphrodisiac. They don't get many opportunities to hang out, just the two of them, let alone talk or -- do other things. Isaac realizes with a sinking heart that after this unwanted, abysmal attempt at flirtation, they probably won't do it ever again. Boyd will try to avoid him and Derek will figure out what happened and -- 

He wonders if werewolves can get kicked out of a pack. He wonders how long he'd survive as an omega, out in the wild. (He's sixteen and rejection seems like a heavier stain that he can possibly bear.)

"You wanna get something to eat?" Boyd asks, his voice a low echo that reverberates around the crumbling walls. Isaac's hand misses the railing but his new and improved werewolf senses keep him upright where before he would've toppled over in an ungainly pile of bones and acne scars. 

"Huh?" Intelligent responses of the ilk are usually Stiles's domain, but Isaac will dabble, occasionally, when he's too busy watching Boyd's slow advance like a deer caught in the headlights on an oncoming truck. (Someone should have warned Derek that he'd make a lousy wolf. This is what happens when you bite teenagers on impulse.)

Mercifully, Boyd doesn't seem to care. His hand is cool and gentle on Isaac's cheek. Almost -- timid. "Let's try that again," he says and cants his head forward, bridging the distance between them to press full lips against Isaac's. 

It doesn't last more than a heartbeat. Isaac knows because his chest feels very full, suddenly. The uncomfortable tightness in his jeans jumps to the forefront of his mind.

"It's polite," Boyd whispers, "to ask someone out before you jump them." His eyes glow the ruby-gold of a would-be transformation, but he doesn't change and his touch stays gentle, sans claws.

Whether that's werewolf etiquette or part of the normal dating rules Isaac never learned because his evenings were spent digging up graves for his dad -- or just Boyd being mercurial to mess with his head -- he doesn't know and he doesn't ask. Erica will tell him tomorrow, at school. "I didn't say yes." Isaac points out. The urge to stick his foot in his mouth is too powerful to resist. "I mean, just now." 

Boyd's hesitation is palpable. _Who hurt you?_ Isaac finds himself wondering, like standards are a thing you develop only after getting your heart broken once or twice. "I thought you wanted--"

Words are only going to get in the way, in great part because they're grown-up constructs, so Isaac seals their mouths together again, licking past teeth that could easily lengthen into fangs and letting his eyes close. He likes the sense of surrender that comes with doing this very small, very intimate thing. No one is holding him in place save for the hands he places against Boyd's hips, too cowardly to do more. 

The other boy moans, knotting a careful hand in his hair and drawing him close. It's like the first kiss, with Boyd against the wall and Isaac fighting desperately to arouse his interest, only a little better. They're on the same page. When they break for breath -- which they still need, even if they're super-powerful, half-wolf vigilante high schoolers -- Boyd's gaze is soft. "So... dinner?" he asks, grinning crookedly.

Isaac ponders this. "What's the protocol on having a nightcap at my house?" He rocks forward, bringing his hips flush against Boyd's. The catch of breath is audible and gratifying and it makes Isaac feel at once powerful and absurdly needy.

"Yeah, okay." Boyd kisses the corner of his lips. "It'll do."

In the end, they end up going for a breakfast of maple syrup with a side dish of pancakes.


End file.
